


Prayer Malfunction and Witches Who Love Guinea Pigs

by Zetal (Rodinia)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU from the assault on Dick Roman, Guinea Pig Sam, Hallucifer Shenanigans, M/M, No Purgatory Trip, Prayer Malfunction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-16
Updated: 2016-05-16
Packaged: 2018-06-08 19:36:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,711
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6870685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rodinia/pseuds/Zetal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam is turned into a guinea pig.  He calls Cas for help the only way he can - through prayer - even though prayer isn't exactly reliable these days.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Prayer Malfunction and Witches Who Love Guinea Pigs

“Cas, help. Please,” Sam whispered from under the couch. He wasn’t exactly sure why. Maybe today would be a good day and Cas would hear him, recognize his voice or soul or whatever it was angels used to identify people offering prayers, and remember that Sam was someone important to him. Or maybe it would be a bad day and Cas wouldn’t come at all, or would come only to ask weird questions and then take off again without helping out at all. Things had been getting better once the Leviathans were gone, there were stretches where Cas seemed to have the Lucifer issues entirely under control, but then Cas had started losing it again. Dean hadn’t noticed anything weird, thought Cas was pretty well recovered. Sam had noticed, though.

“Sam?” Well, Cas had come. The witch let out a meep and took off running. Cas didn’t go after her, instead continuing to look around. “Sam, if you’re here, I heard your call. I’m here. What do you need?”

Sam poked his nose out from his hiding spot. He tried to greet Cas, but that was problematic. It wasn’t that Cas couldn’t hear him. It was that Cas didn’t speak guinea pig.

Cas knelt beside Sam and reached out to pick him up. “Hello. What are you doing under the couch? Have you seen my friend?”

It still surprised Sam every time he heard Cas refer to him as his friend. As a guinea pig, though, the surprised squeak was easy to pass off. Talking to Cas was apparently out of the question, but maybe if he prayed… “Cas, I’m the guinea pig.”

Castiel sighed. “I suppose I should have expected this. Another trick, I assume. Sam is probably not even anywhere close.” He considered Sam curiously. “Do you belong to the occupant of this house? The house is full of black magic, but she doesn’t appear to be using you in her spells. If I set you down, can you take me to where you belong?”

Once Sam was on the floor again, he had to figure out how to communicate where he belonged to Cas. There was no way he’d make it back to the hotel without being carried, not in any kind of reasonable time. He ran for the front door, hoping that would communicate that he didn’t belong in this house, at least.

Castiel took the hint. He picked up Sam again, holding him up securely and looking him in the eye. “I don’t know how to help you get back to where you belong, but my friends will if anyone does. Would you like to come with me until I can get in contact with them?”

Sam squeaked again and made himself comfortable in Cas’s hands. It was surprisingly easy; Sam was used to thinking of Cas’s hands as small, but they weren’t. Sam just usually didn’t have the perspective of not being a giant. Cas pulled him in a little closer to his body and flew to a cabin in the middle of Montana.

“It can be hard sometimes, predicting when to contact Sam and Dean,” he said as he settled Sam down on the bed in the room. “They keep very odd hours, rarely the same from one day to the next. Dean is currently asleep. I can’t…” Castiel stopped and frowned, sitting on the bed beside Sam and running a finger over his fur. “I can’t feel Sam right now. Dean would probably never forgive me if I didn’t wake him while Sam was in trouble, but this is the first sleep he’s gotten in three days. He can’t help Sam if he’s exhausted, and he needs this rest.”

He stopped stroking Sam suddenly and pulled his finger away. “Do guinea pigs mind when humans touch them? Humans are very tactile with animals that belong to them, and you certainly act like someone’s pet, but I don’t know that. Even if you were, you’re not mine.”

Sam scooted back under Cas’s hand, wishing he could laugh. Of course Castiel would be the person to think about whether animals should be asked for consent before petting them.

“I suppose I can take that as permission,” Castiel said. He resumed stroking Sam’s fur. “Sam taught me a lot about such things. Dean, too, but Dean yells at me not to do things and Sam explains why I shouldn’t. Sam’s approach is much easier to apply to new situations.” He fell silent for a bit, lost in thought. Then he pulled out his cell phone. “I sometimes overlook the obvious, little one.”

Sam could feel a slight buzzing in his side. Of course. The pocket where he usually kept his cell phone. He couldn’t answer, though, which made him feel bad. He hated missing Cas’s calls.

“Sam, it’s Castiel. Are you all right? I…” Castiel hung up and looked at his guinea pig friend. “Sam is a grown man and a very capable hunter. He probably wouldn’t appreciate me calling him because I have a bad feeling about him. I’m not Dean.”

Of course he would. He chirped at Castiel, trying to tell him that, but Cas still didn’t speak guinea pig, darn it.

Once again, Castiel sighed. “I really hate to do this, but I’m calling Dean.” He dialed and waited. “Dean, listen to me. I’m worried about Sam.”

Thanks to Cas having picked him up, and therefore moving him closer to the phone, Sam could hear Dean’s response. “Sammy? What’s wrong with Sam?”

“I don’t know,” Cas said. “I thought I heard him praying to me earlier, but when I went to answer he wasn’t there, and now I can’t sense him at all.”

“Shit.” Dean sounded a lot more awake now. “So, Sam prayed to you but was taken before you could get there?”

“It’s a possibility, I suppose,” Castiel said. “More likely is… Dean, I haven’t mentioned this because I didn’t want you to worry, but I’ve been having hallucinations or dissociations or something along those lines. I’ll hear Sam praying to me, but when I respond, either he’s not there, or he is, but he has no idea what I’m talking about when I answer a question or address something that he said.”

“Dammit, Cas! You start having weirdness, you tell me! Before the crisis hits, so that maybe, just this once, we can avoid the crisis!” Dean said. “Sam said you’d been acting weird, but you’re always a little weird around Sam. Shoulda pushed him harder about it.”

“What do you mean I’m weird around Sam?” Cas said. “I’d ask what Sam meant, but I assume you don’t know.”

“Well, when Sam took off after that witch yesterday I told him to pray for you if he needed help, because I needed the sleep, and he said he’d try but that you didn’t always answer,” Dean said.

“I always answer Sam’s prayer,” Cas said, the hand holding Sam squeezing tight enough to make Sam squeak. Cas looked down apologetically and loosened his grip. “Even now, when I usually expect it not to be real, I answer.”

Apparently, Sam and Cas needed to talk. Something weird was going on. Dean seemed to agree. “Well, all I know is Sammy’s said he’s prayed to you and you haven’t come. And when I said you’re weird around Sam, I was just pointing out that since you started getting better you haven’t been able to look Sam in the eyes.”

“Should I, after what I did?” Cas said. Sam squeaked at him again.

“Look, Cas,” Dean said. “You know and I know that what you did to Sam is unforgiveable. Thing is, Sam doesn’t know that. He not only can forgive you, he has. So quit using it as an excuse to not talk to him.”

“I’m not using it as an excuse,” Castiel said. “That really is the reason I don’t…”

“Yeah, then prove it,” Dean said. “Sam’s forgiven you. It’s all good. So when we find him, stop being weird around him and treat him like you want to.”

“And then you hit me and tell me to stay away from him,” Castiel said. “Somehow I doubt very strongly that you would approve.”

“What, like I approved of Ruby? Sam’s a big boy, he can hit you himself if he’s not interested. If he is, not my business, is it. At least you’re not gonna turn him into a vampire or try to turn him against me,” Dean said. Sam was now very confused.

Apparently, Cas was, too. “You know?”

“Course I know, Cas, you’re not as subtle as you think you are,” Dean said. “God knows how Sam hasn’t figured it out.”

“I doubt that,” Castiel said. “God doesn’t really pay attention to things like that, even when he was around.”

“You know what I mean, Cas,” Dean said. “Look, focus. Sam’s missing. You tried calling him, I assume?”

“Yes. He didn’t answer,” Cas said.

“Right. Give me a sec. Anything else weird going on I should know about?” Dean asked. Sam had an idea and scooted toward the phone, squeaking at it as loudly as he could. It worked, getting Dean’s attention. “The hell was that?”

“When I went to answer Sam’s prayer – or so I believed – I found a guinea pig. It acted as though it didn’t belong in the witch’s house and he wasn’t her familiar, so I brought him with me while I try to figure out where he belongs,” Cas said.

“Oh god,” Dean said. “Someone found you something fluffy.”

“Only until I discover where it belongs,” Castiel insisted.

“Bring him with you and meet me at the witch’s house,” Dean said. “I think I might have an idea.”

When they arrived, Dean had an arm around the witch with a knife to her throat. “There you guys are. Pansy Parkinson here has something she’d like to say.”

The witch scowled and spat out something in Latin. Sam couldn’t make it out. He was too busy twisting, burning, breaking apart.

When it was over, he had opposable thumbs again. “Hey. Thanks, Dean.”

“No problem, Sammy. Good to see you with…” he paused and grinned. “Actually, you’re not really noticeably less hairy now, are you? I mean, percentagewise, yeah, but…”

“You’re an idiot,” Sam said. He looked around. “Where’d Cas go?”

“The witch made a break for it. Cas went after her. Have fun being his pet guinea pig?” Dean asked.

“He didn’t know it was me,” Sam said. “Hey, uh, I could hear the phone call. What the hell were you talking about?”

“You heard all that?” Dean said, glee taking over his face. “What did you think we were talking about?”

“It… it kinda sounded like you think Cas… has a crush on me? But that…”

Dean punched Sam’s arm. “Better than that.”

“Dean.” Sam jumped at the sound of Castiel’s irritated voice. He was dragging the witch – or her corpse, Sam realized as he got a better look.

“Did you… smite her?” Sam asked, noting the eyes.

Castiel dropped the corpse on the ground. “She tried to kill me. I didn’t have my blade.”

“Huh.” Sam looked at the corpse again. Trying to kill an angel wasn’t exactly smart, especially one who was already pissed at her. “Guess that makes deciding what to do with her easier.”

“Yeah. Salt and burn,” Dean said. “I’ll handle that. You two… there’s some sort of glitch with your prayer communication. Get that figured out.”

“Good idea,” Sam said. He found a table to sit on. “This time, it worked, you just couldn’t tell that I was a guinea pig, I guess?”

“Most likely,” Castiel said. “Sam, I don’t know what’s going on, but every prayer of yours I receive, I come to answer. I swear.”

“I believe you, Cas,” Sam said. “Look, I guess you know already, but… I understood everything, when I was furry. I could hear Dean’s end of your phone conversation. Dean’s right. Everything’s forgiven, and that was before you took on my memories.” He paused. “Could that be the problem? When I was… when I lost it, I heard Lucifer in my head, taunting me, messing with me, making me hallucinate. Maybe… you’ve seemed to be mostly fine, since we took care of Dick Roman.”

“Aside from your prayer, I have been,” Castiel said. He took some time to think it over. “That does make sense, though, your theory. I was never truly in the Cage, I know the actual memories happened to someone else. Hallucinating Lucifer wouldn’t work very well with me. But my guilt… leaving your soul behind to suffer in the first place and then destroying your wall to leave you vulnerable to the memories…”

“Cas, that first one was an accident,” Sam said. “You didn’t know, and you had no reason to check until Dean called you in on me.”

“Sam, you know better than that,” Castiel said. Sam looked at him quizzically. “In learning to behave as a human, I’ve had you and Dean as role models. Dean’s still killing himself over his guilt about what he did in Hell, and you’re still torn up over your guilt about freeing Lucifer. Neither of those are rational for you to still be holding on to after all this time and the penances you’ve served, you especially.”

“Well, Dean, no. He was in _Hell_ ,” Sam said. “Me? I, uh. I deserve the guilt, Cas. I…”

“No, you don’t,” Castiel said. “You made mistakes, and you were right to seek forgiveness for them and to correct them. And you did. You earned my forgiveness, Dean’s forgiveness. Anyone who could deny you forgiveness and redemption after you trapped Lucifer back in the Cage with no intention of ever coming out is not worth seeking the forgiveness of. You should let go of your guilt.”

“It doesn’t exactly work that way, Cas,” Sam said. And then he realized Cas’s point, earlier. “Yeah, okay. If it were that easy to forgive yourself, you’d have done it. I get that. Maybe we can help each other work on it?”

“How?”

“On the phone with Dean, you… look, I know you didn’t mean for me to hear it, but still. When Dean said that thing about treating me the way you want to instead of…”

“You heard that.”

“Yeah. You seemed to think he’d hit you and then he made some kind of comparison to Ruby, so, uh, I hope I’m not too out of line in thinking…” 

Castiel sighed. “No. You’re not.”

Sam’s face lit up in a bright smile, and Castiel looked at him in confusion. “Well, normally, I’d ask why you never said anything, but in this case I get it. Because I’ve felt the same way about you for months. It kinda started when you took on my memories, but the roots go back a lot farther. But the guilt, the shame of the demon blood, I would never have said anything to you about it.”

“Oh. Yes, you… wait, what?” Castiel’s eyes widened and he turned to fully face Sam.

It was kind of funny, really. “If a freaking angel can love me, then I’ve gotta be worth something in spite of all my screw-ups and mistakes. And if I can love you in spite of everything, then you’re worth something, too. If we can make ourselves believe that, then maybe we can both let go of the guilt. It’s worth a try, right?”

“It’s… Sam…” Castiel closed the distance between them. “Don’t do this to help me, Sam. Please.”

“But if it’s really what I want, it’s okay?” Sam said. Castiel nodded, so Sam reached out and took his hands. “This is what I want, Cas. You’re what I want. Dean says he’s okay with it, so let’s do it.”

“Yes. Of course.”

Sam pulled Cas into a hug. “And of course, we’ll have to get you a guinea pig.”

“…Why?”

“Why not?” Sam asked.

“Looking after you for a few hours was one thing,” Castiel said. “Is it truly a good idea to have a pet?”

“We’ll find a way to make it work, and Dean’s not allergic, and he hasn’t been killed by the hell version,” Sam said.

**Author's Note:**

> This was inspired by a prompt from dailyspnprompts on Tumblr, although I didn't stick to the prompt very well.
> 
> If you want to send me a prompt, my Tumblr is rodiniaorzetalthepenquin. I mostly write Sastiel, Wincest, and Wincestiel, but I'm willing to write most ships if I can make it work with other restrictions. I don't like to write explicit porn, and I will not write even non-explicit non-con sex (dub-con can be okay, depending on the exact circumstances; non-consensual cuddles or kissing, possibly, again depending on the exact circumstances). I'm a teacher in real life, so I just can't make myself get into teacher/student, even professor/student, and I don't like including the reader in fics because it means that I have this whole character where the entire point is to make them as featureless as possible, and that goes against everything I've ever been taught about making characters for stories.
> 
> Comments are fuel for the word factory!


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